The Zoogie People
03-02-2006, 05:09
[ooc] I feel bad, I haven't done RPing for so long. I thought I'd give it a try, maybe. Open to everyone, just remember: this means nothing. If a nation gets completely glassed, I won't care if your president is walking around giving press conferences the next day, so long as it's in another RP. What happens in this RP, stays in this RP. That way, no hard feelings, no bickering, and we can let godmodding and reality slide ('cause we all know how realistic RPing is anyways), just don't push it.
'Mkay?
I don't have a sense of direction for this either, or really a sense of how much time I will be able to put into it (hence the amazingly ambiguous title). So it's all cool. I just need to write again before I forget how to write anything other than rhetoric and analysis.
Two years ago
A man coughed. For a second the dead still of the night was stirred, or at least disrupted: crickets stopped chirping momentarily, and then continued in their monotonous drone. It was 2 a.m and he was in an abandoned warehouse in rural western Zoogiedom. Director Arrius was an orderly man who didn't much like being awake at that hour, but on this occasion it was for a good cause.
It was a crazy, makeshift, and wildly dangerous idea, but it was the only way to get it done. B61-style thermonuclear warheads were being crudely transported and stored around the countryside, where the sweeping arm of Domestic Intelligence could not reach. The government in Zoogiedom was small, and for Arrius, that made his dream possible.
Ten years ago, when Zoogiedom dismantled its nuclear warheads and redistributed or simply cut out of the budget the money that had been used to fund it, Arrius had been severely shaken. The life work of many of his subordinates was now of no consequence. Well, there was energy, but frankly, nuclear energy meant nothing to him. Fusion research was not looked at the same way as defense spending - and there was no way that would ever change.
Arrius had acquiesced, but not quietly. He yearned to bring back warheads to Zoogiedom. It was a stupid decision, strategically speaking, to eliminate the nukes in a world that was full of them. He was a firm believer in the MAD doctrine, however stubbornly the folks in Jaganda [capital] clung to their belief that certain nations would use the weapons without a second thought, thereby rendering MAD useless.
It had taken years of burying money, secreting funds, and engaging in innumerable subversive actions for Arrius to succeed. If he were ever found...well, that would be the end of him. Possibly the end of his life, he thought wryly. Killing was against the official doctrine, but if he were found guilty of treason...it certainly wasn't out of the question.
He smiled as he looked down at the sheet of paper before him. It was a list. A list which bore him much hope.
Present day
Arrius had quite succeeded in the past two years. There were now five dormant, hidden silos throughout Zoogiedom, and not to mention storehouses of thermonuclear free-fall bombs. It was a feat for anyone to accomplish under the watchful eyes of the frugal and tightfisted administration.
But now, he wondered: what was he going to do with the weapons? Blackmail? [i]Use them? He would have to place some phone calls to his contacts in other countries...yes, Zoogiedom needed a change of order. The people needed to be shaken up a bit. He just had to hope Domestic Intelligence wouldn't pick up on him.
JAGANDA
A certain Capt. Rainer of the DENP [definitely everyday normal people - an intelligence agency whose name ought to raise eyebrows as to its power] Agency is admitted into the office of its head - a brooding, mysterious figure named Smith who seems to have been around for as long as anyone can remember.
Dramatic spy thriller music plays in the background, being blasted out by the stereo on the wall of Smith's office, building to a crescendo as the two men exchange meaningful glances. The melodramatic climax having finished; the mysterious atmosphere having been accomplished, Capt. Rainer spoke.
"Director, I would like to open an investigation on Vernan Arrius, Director of the Westarr Nuclear Energy Research Group. I have accumulated probable cause...that his activities are more than he has let them on to be."
Smith raised an eyebrow. He turned and sat, adjusting the volume of his stereo as he went. DENP had peculiar traditions; it was critical that the fitting mood be established for meetings such as this. He folded his arms and spoke.
"Yes?"
...
'Mkay?
I don't have a sense of direction for this either, or really a sense of how much time I will be able to put into it (hence the amazingly ambiguous title). So it's all cool. I just need to write again before I forget how to write anything other than rhetoric and analysis.
Two years ago
A man coughed. For a second the dead still of the night was stirred, or at least disrupted: crickets stopped chirping momentarily, and then continued in their monotonous drone. It was 2 a.m and he was in an abandoned warehouse in rural western Zoogiedom. Director Arrius was an orderly man who didn't much like being awake at that hour, but on this occasion it was for a good cause.
It was a crazy, makeshift, and wildly dangerous idea, but it was the only way to get it done. B61-style thermonuclear warheads were being crudely transported and stored around the countryside, where the sweeping arm of Domestic Intelligence could not reach. The government in Zoogiedom was small, and for Arrius, that made his dream possible.
Ten years ago, when Zoogiedom dismantled its nuclear warheads and redistributed or simply cut out of the budget the money that had been used to fund it, Arrius had been severely shaken. The life work of many of his subordinates was now of no consequence. Well, there was energy, but frankly, nuclear energy meant nothing to him. Fusion research was not looked at the same way as defense spending - and there was no way that would ever change.
Arrius had acquiesced, but not quietly. He yearned to bring back warheads to Zoogiedom. It was a stupid decision, strategically speaking, to eliminate the nukes in a world that was full of them. He was a firm believer in the MAD doctrine, however stubbornly the folks in Jaganda [capital] clung to their belief that certain nations would use the weapons without a second thought, thereby rendering MAD useless.
It had taken years of burying money, secreting funds, and engaging in innumerable subversive actions for Arrius to succeed. If he were ever found...well, that would be the end of him. Possibly the end of his life, he thought wryly. Killing was against the official doctrine, but if he were found guilty of treason...it certainly wasn't out of the question.
He smiled as he looked down at the sheet of paper before him. It was a list. A list which bore him much hope.
Present day
Arrius had quite succeeded in the past two years. There were now five dormant, hidden silos throughout Zoogiedom, and not to mention storehouses of thermonuclear free-fall bombs. It was a feat for anyone to accomplish under the watchful eyes of the frugal and tightfisted administration.
But now, he wondered: what was he going to do with the weapons? Blackmail? [i]Use them? He would have to place some phone calls to his contacts in other countries...yes, Zoogiedom needed a change of order. The people needed to be shaken up a bit. He just had to hope Domestic Intelligence wouldn't pick up on him.
JAGANDA
A certain Capt. Rainer of the DENP [definitely everyday normal people - an intelligence agency whose name ought to raise eyebrows as to its power] Agency is admitted into the office of its head - a brooding, mysterious figure named Smith who seems to have been around for as long as anyone can remember.
Dramatic spy thriller music plays in the background, being blasted out by the stereo on the wall of Smith's office, building to a crescendo as the two men exchange meaningful glances. The melodramatic climax having finished; the mysterious atmosphere having been accomplished, Capt. Rainer spoke.
"Director, I would like to open an investigation on Vernan Arrius, Director of the Westarr Nuclear Energy Research Group. I have accumulated probable cause...that his activities are more than he has let them on to be."
Smith raised an eyebrow. He turned and sat, adjusting the volume of his stereo as he went. DENP had peculiar traditions; it was critical that the fitting mood be established for meetings such as this. He folded his arms and spoke.
"Yes?"
...